This was my first Kazuo Ishiguro novel, the author of Never Let Me Go and The Remains of the Day, but I knew this book was delving into fantasy – a genre Ishiguro isn’t known for. And, to be honest it’s not really my thing, but I went in with an open mind. As it happens, the fantasy side I found be secondary to the heart-rending emotion that uncontrollably poured out. I’m not generally a book-crier, the only ever other one was A Thousand Splendid Suns and you surely have to be made of stone if you didn’t blub at that.
The Buried Giant is set after the Romans have left and the Brits and Saxons live in relative peace with one another, whilst at the same time it’s balancing on a knife’s edge. The story centres around an elderly couple who leave their village and set out to find their son (who they can’t remember much about) through a land and time which is filled with legends and heroes….and a mist that surrounds the country.
The story overall is a fairly slow paced one, but so beautifully, almost poetically written that it captures your imagination and doesn’t let it go. However for a dreamy, partly subdue book, the last page managed to hit me like a train. This will definitely be a novel I’ll read again, perhaps several times in my lifetime.